youthful servant had survived, though two fighting men obviously had not. Esk kar stood at the side of the old wooden gate as a group of villagers rushed through. A hand took his, and he looked down to see Trella had joined him.
“How did you hear so quickly?” he asked, putting his arm around her, enjoying her touch. He looked behind him to make sure her guard was present, since his own had been left with the visitors. A few of Drigo’s men remained, though most had left weeks ago. While the danger from Drigo’s followers had lessened, the number of villagers who had no kind thoughts for Orak’s war leader and his hard discipline had increased.
“Bantor wasn’t sure where you’d gone, so he sent a messenger back to the house. The boy told us about the three archers that you turned your back on and invited to go drinking after they threatened to kill you.”
Esk kar laughed. “It wasn’t like that, Trella. They’re interesting folk, though.”
“No, I’m sure it wasn’t,” she answered, tightening her grip on his hand.
“But I’d like to meet them.”
“You will, tonight. We’ve just enough room in the small house for three more, I think.”
Conversation ceased as Jalen trotted through the gate in a swirl of dust to the cheers and shouts of the crowd. He swung down from his horse, stiff from his long ride. Esk kar found himself hugging his lieutenant, pounding him on the back, while the villagers called out Jalen’s name.
“Gods below, Jalen, I’d given you up for dead days ago! Now you ride in as easy as can be. Come back to my house. We can talk there.”
“By the gods, it’s good to be back.” Jalen glanced up at the wall, his mouth agape at the sight. “And much has changed since I left.” He stepped back to his horse and untied a leather pouch from his blanket, then followed Esk kar and Trella as they headed home. Halfway there they found Nicar waiting for them in the street. He invited them all to his house, saying the other nobles would be coming there as well.
Moments later Nicar’s guests filled his meeting room to capacity, with every seat and stool occupied. A dozen others stood wherever they could find space. All waited for Jalen.
He’d stopped to wash up, though Esk kar knew it would take more than a few moments at the well to remove the smell of horseflesh from body and clothes. The room already felt warm from the presence of so many bodies.
Once again Esk kar sat at the foot of the table with Trella near his side. Gatus, Sisuthros, and Bantor stood behind their captain. When Jalen entered, damp from his washing, he wore one of Nicar’s old tunics, a garment too large for his frame. Jalen sat down in the last open seat, next to his captain, and drank from the wine cup already poured in front of him.
“Noble Nicar, I thank you for your wine and the loan of your tunic.
Mine is not worth saving, I’m afraid.”
“Whatever you want, you have only to ask,” Nicar answered. “But come, we’re eager for news. Did you find the barbarians?”
The smile disappeared from Jalen’s face. “Yes, I found them, and there’s much to tell.” He reached for the leather pouch he’d entrusted to his captain. Jalen removed the cloth map and spread it out on the table. Torn at the edges and dirty from much handling, it had obviously served its purpose well. Esk kar saw many new threads sewn onto it.
All heads craned toward the cloth as if its secrets would be clearly visible. Looks of concern replaced the smiles as they wondered what news they would hear. Jalen put down his wine and began his tale.
“Before we’d gone five days, we began to hear word about the Alur Meriki. As we went farther north, we met people moving west, and we learned of raiding parties that ranged far to the northeast. To avoid those, we traveled closer to the river, and there was little activity for another week until we began to encounter many folk moving south trying to stay ahead of the main party. Many of these people knew of Orak and were heading here. Have any arrived?”
“Yes, more and more are on the roads, all coming here,” Esk kar replied.
“Some stay, if they’re willing to fight or work. Others camp outside and move on in a few days.”
Jalen nodded. “More will come. We continued to ride north for another week and began to see small scouting parties, five or ten barbarians. We ran south each time they saw us. Once they chased us for a full day before we lost them. Thank the gods for our strong horses. Each time, we circled back north again and moved farther away from the river.”
Esk kar leaned forward, his eyes hard. “You saw no big raiding parties, only scouts?” They should have encountered at least one large band of warriors.
“Yes, only scouts. We couldn’t continue north, so we moved east. We talked to many travelers and even some bandits. The farther east we went, the clearer things became.”
Jalen drank again from his cup. Every eye rested upon him. “The barbarians have a plan. The main body of the tribe, with at least seven or eight hundred warriors, is coming slowly toward us, more or less following the river. Two large raiding bands are ranging far to the south and east of the main body, killing everyone in their path or forcing them to head west.” He put his finger on the map, and everyone stood or left his seat to get a closer look, the nobles jostling each other, dignity forgotten.
Jalen pointed at some red threads. “Here is where the main camp is, or was about two weeks ago. They travel slowly and stay close to the river.
The raiding parties range eastward, sweeping everyone toward the river.”
Again Jalen pointed to the map, indicating two curved seams of black threads that hooked far to the southeast. “They ride great distances, but always to the east and south, though sometimes they send captives and loot back to the main camp. They do that every week or so, and perhaps they exchange men as well, so all can share in the looting.”
Esk kar stared at the map, as did the others, but already he could understand the strategy. He sat there, lost in thought, until Nicar’s words interrupted him.
“Well, Esk kar, what do you make of it? It seems they may pass us by if they are raiding so far to the east. When the river bends, the main party may continue eastward. That’s the path they traveled the last time they passed through these parts.”
Esk kar glanced at Jalen and saw that his subcommander understood all too clearly what the barbarians had in mind. Esk kar leaned over the map, tracing on it with his finger.
“The main body follows the river Tigris, and right now that group is traveling almost due east. When the river bends, they’ll continue to follow it and will be moving southeast. When the river straightens, they’ll be heading almost due south, and we’ll be right in their path. By then these raiding parties will be ranging far to the southeast of Orak, and they’ll start to move toward us as well, first driving west, then north. They’ll approach Orak from the south, following the river and driving anyone seeking to escape from Orak back toward us.” He looked up at the men and saw them all listening intently to him, mouths open, as they tried to grasp his meaning.
“This time the barbarians are not just passing nearby, and we’re not just another village near their path. This time they make straight for Orak.
We’re their main destination. They herd everyone toward us, knowing that the crowds of escaping farmers and villagers will overwhelm us with their numbers even as they concentrate all their goods and livestock here. They expect to pluck a rich prize before they move on.”
Esk kar’s words silenced everyone for a moment before Nicar spoke.
“How sure can you be of this, Esk kar? They could still turn east and not head directly here.”
Nicar’s question rang of desperation. They heard the words, but not what they meant. “Tell them, Jalen. Tell them what you think.”
“I think it’s as Esk kar says,” Jalen said. “They’re coming here. Otherwise the main band would have turned east weeks ago. That’s why they’re moving so slowly. They want people to get word of their approach and to come here, thinking themselves safe, until they have nowhere to go. The village will be overwhelmed with people from the countryside. The barbarians know there’s no easy ford of the Tigris for forty miles on either side of Orak.”
That put another thought into Esk kar’s head. Pulling the map toward him for a moment, Esk kar glanced at it and grunted, then shoved it back toward the center of the table. “Yes, and eventually they’ll send a band of warriors across the river to make sure nobody crosses over, even from the ford here. That will keep us penned up. They won’t care whether Orak resists or not. We’ll have nowhere to run.”
For a long moment no one uttered a sound, each man deep in his own dark thoughts of the future.
